Here I Am
by agapimou34
Summary: What if Ponyboy had hitched a ride on a train with Johnny the night Darry hit him? How would his life turn out differently if he let the wind take him wherever destiny decided? What if he never looked back? Follow the adventure of Ponyboy Curtis as he is thrown into the world alone to brave whatever trials ahead of him in ultimate journey of discovering who he is.
1. Chapter 1

Ponyboy didn't care that he had ran out of the house like he was on fire. He didn't care that he ignored the cries of his brothers, didn't care that his feet never stopped slapping against the pavement. He never bothered to check where he was going- it didn't matter. He didn't bat an eye when he jumped onto the vacated old caboose of a train that happened to be docked on the rails beside the lot. All he cared about was the fact that Darry hit him.

It wasn't just a slap across the face, no… it was something much worse. It was a sign. A terrible, horrifying premonition of what his life could turn into. That maybe it wouldn't stop with this one night. That in a year or two, hell, maybe just months from now, what was left of his family would fade into an awful darkness of empty lonely memories, nothing but pain and bitterness. That his home life would turn out just like Johnny's. The thought of such a living hell was unbearable to the young greaser. His heart had been broken enough. He'd lost both his parents already- he couldn't live if he lost his brothers, too. He just couldn't. It was more than what his already teetering sanity was able to take.

So he ran away that night, as fast as his track legs could carry him. He never wanted to see Darry again, never wanted to go back to that neighborhood with that lonely house full of resentment, never dared to go back to the skeleton of Tulsa he once called home. Flashes of memories zoomed past him- Dally leaning against the porch with a cigarette, Steve calling him a smartass but chuckling all the same, Two-bit watching the late night Mickey cartoons… Soda holding him every night as he fell asleep. He had been Pony's best friend, rock, and sort of surrogate parent since everything had happened. A sharp pain once more ripped through his heart as he thought of his older brother. _Not you, Soda,_ Ponyboy remembered sadly, _you were always on my side. I hope you never doubt that I love you._

But Soda couldn't know that. Not now- it was too late. Ponyboy's thoughts and heart were racing faster than what he could catch up with, so he was left with an oddly numb sensation as Johnny sat there holding him. Through his daze he vaguely recalled Johnny sitting around in the lot, eyes widening as he saw Ponyboy running. He had come with him, refusing to let his best friend go alone. Quiet, solemn Johnny who always understood him… Now he was here, rubbing his shoulders gently, telling him everything would be ok. Ponyboy couldn't register much more beyond those words- he didn't even realize it when the train started moving long ago, the two boys curled up together against the back wall of the rickety old wooden car.

It was dirty, spray painted with graffiti on the outside and a layer of dust and grime on the inside. Ponyboy watched the Oklahoma landscape of forests and fields dotted with lonely barns go by in front of them, the quiet sound of crickets and the wheels against the tracks as they faded away from civilization. _I don't care,_ Ponyboy thought desperately with tear stained cheeks as the train pushed onwards, _I don't care where you take me. Just take me away from here. As far and as fast as you can…_

Johnny was asleep with his head on Pony's shoulder, the both of them exhausted. And so, only the vast sky full of stars was there to acknowledge the lone drop of saltwater down his gaunt face when he fully processed what was happening. His old life was over. All he ever knew, the gang, the town, his family… Gone, just like that.

Ponyboy sniffed, angrily wiping the tears away from his eyes with his fists. _Come on, bawl baby, pull yourself together,_ he scolded himself, looking off into the distance as his eyelids became half mast, _you're on your own, now… And you ain't never goin' back._


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing!**

"Ponyboy!"

Ponyboy's eyes slowly opened, invaded by the bright rays of early morning light prying through his eyelids and the soft yet urgent voice calling his name.

"Ponyboy, wake up! We gotta skip 'fore anyone sees us here!"

Ponyboy looked up to see Johnny's face kneeling over him, staring with concerned brown eyes. His body ached, and memories flooded him so fast that he got nauseous. Darry hitting him, running away, no destination, take me anywhere...

Oh, god, what were they gonna do?

He nodded at Johnny, who helped him to sit up. "Where the hell are we?" He muttered, slipping off the edge of the car easily and onto the crunching gravel beneath his feet. The train was stopped in a station, situated next to a wide open valley and unkempt forest.

"I don't know… We just stopped a couple minutes ago." Johnny replied softly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He was just as lost as Ponyboy. He had no idea what had driven Ponyboy to hop on the train, or whether he even did it willingly or just out of delirious anguish. All he knew was that he wasn't letting his friend go alone. _Hell, it ain't like I got somethin' to leave behind_ , he thought bitterly. The bruises on his arms spoke for themselves.

Ponyboy was silent as he started walking out of the railroad pit, hoisting himself up onto the platform that opened into some sort of interstate. Johnny hesitated to ask Ponyboy about last night. On one hand, he didn't want his friend to feel like he had to keep it all inside. He knew from personal experience how awful that was. On the other hand, he didn't want to snap the fragile anchor his pal had on reality, neither.

"Johnnycake," Ponyboy beckoned as he stood in front of a bulletin board posted outside the rail guard's small office, which was vacant. Johnny's dark eyes darted up to see what Pony was looking at- the cork board had simple listings of schedules pinned haphazardly to them, worn and faded from sunlight. At the top of the sign in bold letters it read; **Welcome to Keyes, Oklahoma!**

So, they'd gone west. Like, a stone's throw away from New Mexico, West. Johnny felt his stomach clench. They'd gotten on the train at about half past ten- that was 377 miles nonstop from Tulsa, almost 7 hours. They were really getting far from their comfort zone now. _If you could even call it that,_ Johnny wondered. _Life as a Greaser in the rundown neighborhoods of Tulsa was definitely not a vacation._

"Still early," Ponyboy noted, the clock on the wall reading 5:45 am, "we got time to make it into town."

Johnny noted how gravelly and brisk Pony's voice was, how emotionless the usually bright face looked. His concern grew as Pony started walking aimlessly into town.

"Pony, wait!" He called, trying to catch up with him, "Pony, what in God's name are we doing all the way out here? We gotta talk about-"

"There ain't nothin' to say!" Ponyboy cut him off, voice sharp. It was unnerving… Sounded too much like Dally's. "It's obvious Darry wanted me to get the hell out. So I did."

Johnny, not knowing what to say or do, bit his tongue. It wasn't hard- he'd done it all his life and by now thought he was quite good at it. He cared about his best friend, and the gang was the only family he'd ever known. The mere idea of leaving them forever on such a whim was utterly terrifying. But he had no idea what had went on that night Ponyboy came running into the lot, no clue as to what led to Darry hitting him or what about that shook Pony up so badly. All he knew was that they were comrades, brothers until the end. And he had to stick by him no matter what.

"Where do we go now?" He asked breathlessly, shivering in the chilly morning air.

Ponyboy shrugged, digging his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling out a wad of bills. "I got 15 on me… should get us a proper ticket next train. What do you got?"

Johnny's hands shook as he fumbled around his own jean pockets, withdrawing two crumpled one dollar bills. "Glory, Pony, where'd you get all that dough?" He asked, eyes wide as he stared at the money in his friend's hand. That was more than Soda made in a week!

"Stole it."

"From who?"

"Don't matter." Pony retorted, wincing at how harsh his words came out. He didn't mean to lash like this on Johnny, it wasn't his fault. _Anyone crazy enough to come along with a loser like me is worth keeping,_ Ponyboy thought, regarding Johnny with a smile only the two of them shared.

"Well, we got the money… But where're we headed? This far west an' all, I mean, I don't know no geography or nothin' but I'm pretty sure there ain't much to see in New Mexico." Johnny said cautiously. He slowed his words as he watched a light come on in his friend's eyes, and Ponyboy looked at him with an unreadable expression. Naive fearlessness? Or sheer realization?

"We're heading out west, Johnnycake," Ponyboy chuckled, grinning like a mad man, "city of angels, baby."


	3. Chapter 3

**I only own Eddy and Shadbush Road. Enjoy!**

Dally had told Ponyboy about Los Angeles one time. He remembered it distinctly- standing outside on the front porch, smoking puffs of tobacco into the late night air while he listened intently. He always loved hearing about the older Greaser's stories and travels. Dally had been all over the country; doing what, exactly, nobody dared ask. But nonetheless, his tales were filled with wistful experience and had a certain quality to them that made one addictive.

" _It's kinda like New York,"_ Dally had said, " _lotta white trash but also lotta Greasers. And boy, do they got a rep for makin' rags to riches. All them movie stars? Paul Newman, Grace Kelly... I'm tellin' ya, kid, even one of us got a chance in the city of angels."_

The memory flooded back to Ponyboy as he and Johnny were walking through the sleepy town of Keyes, checking in at a half-dead diner on the corner of the street just past the rail port. It would take a lot of train-hopping, but _if_ they managed to not get caught hitchhiking then they should get there soon.

"I dunno, Pony," Johnny said apprehensively, taking a bite of his waffle. The two had ordered breakfast with the couple of bills in Johnny's pocket, and they sat waiting for the next train scheduled to arrive, "what're we gonna do when we get there? I mean, we ain't got no more than $15."

Ponyboy shrugged, though he tried to conceal his panic. He had just been through the biggest life changing event (second to the death of his parents), and the thought of being jobless and alone in a foreign city was threatening to leave him utterly paralyzed with fear. But he had to stay strong. _Darry don't want you no more,_ he scolded himself, _he never did. You and Johnny, that's it._ He paused, a sudden stabbing pain at his heart as he remembered Soda. He closed his eyes for a moment, pretending he was back in Tulsa and focusing on his kind, life-loving brother's face and he was filled to the brim with guilt. _I'll come back for you, Soda,_ he vowed silently, _I'll come back as soon as I can just for you._

"We'll think of somethin'. Dally said there were gangs in town. Greasers. If we explain everything well enough, I'm sure they won't throw us out." Ponyboy replied, sipping at his orange juice.

Johnny was quiet for a moment, eyeing Pony for a few seconds before sighing and looking away.

Ponyboy furrowed his brow. "What?" He asked, "What is it?"

Johnny debated for a moment whether or not he should say something, swallowing and pushing his plate back. Damn my insecurity, he cursed himself. "Nothing. It's almost 9… Gotta get to Albuquerque port soon, right?"

Ponyboy smiled, but it wasn't the one Johnny was used to seeing. It wasn't the one he loved- no, it was a mask. A fake, a cheap veil… Although, maybe Pony put more effort into it than he thought, for Johnny could not for the life of him tell what emotions lurked beneath those hazel eyes. "Now you're thinking," he said determinedly, "let's go."

The two boys crouched in the dry, scratchy bushes beside the boxcar, waiting for the filing line of passengers and the occasional inspector to trickle down before hitching a ride. For such a small, western town, both were surprised to see how many people came to board the passenger cars. There were women and children, business men and old men. It was a true menagerie of humanity, filling up the peeling-painted cars as they handed their tickets to the attendee at the front.

"First class looks nice, eh?"

Ponyboy had pulled a blade faster than Two-Bit, and Johnny's eyes went wide as a deer as the two whirled around to see from whom the abrupt voice had come.

"I'm up here, you know."

Their heads jerked up to see a scrawny young man slouched relaxedly in the branches of a tall oak, barefoot and dressed in a ragged pair of trouser-suspenders and a dirty patched shirt. His light skin was a mix of tan and sunburn, streaked with mud or grease in some places and scarred in the other. He was missing a tooth towards the front of his mouth, and his red curly hair sprung out like a fiery explosion in all directions. His green eyes glimmered like a fox, mischievous yet smooth. Freckles dotted his cheekbones on his gaunt face- he couldn't have been much older than Darry. Ponyboy shivered at the mere aspect of going back to thinking about his eldest brother, though, and pushed that thought away.

"Name's Edmund Archibald O'Shaugnessy, but my friends call me 'At-'Em-All Ed'. That's a lil' long, though, so you gents can call me Eddy." The boy proclaimed, swinging upside down to face Ponyboy with surprising flexibility and balance.

Johnny and the other exchanged wary looks, wondering how the hell this boy had managed to sneak up on them so easily. Ponyboy shakily put his blade away, after a few long minutes of carefully looking Eddy over to decide whether or not he posed a threat. He decided the boy was harmless- weird, nonetheless, but he didn't look to have a heater or a switch on him.

"Who are you?" Johnny demanded, keeping his voice down so the inspector wouldn't hear.

Eddy flipped back rightside up, sliding down the trunk of the tree and dismounting flawlessly onto the dry earth before them. "Regular rider of the rails, if I do say so myself." He grinned, hooking a thumb under his suspender and posing flauntingly. "What're your names, fellas? Y'all look a bit young to be facing the ol' choo-choo."

Ponyboy narrowed his eyes at the annoying clown they were faced with. _Great, just what we need,_ he thought, _another Keith Matthews on the road._ "We ain't much younger than you!" He snapped, gaining a supporting frown from Johnny towards the man.

"Yeah," Johnny countered, "what you care about how old we are, creep?"

Eddy backed up, throwing his hands in the air mockingly. "A'ight, a'ight, I see how it is… Geez, just curious. So, you're from Oklahoma, huh?"

Ponyboy raised an eyebrow and Johnny crossed his arms. "How'd you know that?" He asked warily.

Eddy chuckled, sitting indian style beside them. "I know all the rail-riders around here. Oklahoma ones are always feisty. They breed y'all rough down there, don't they?"

A small, ever so slight smirk tugged at the corner of Ponyboy's lips, much to his dismay. Johnny remained silent, waiting for his cue from his friend.

"Don't look now, but your ride's about to skip town," Eddy pointed out just as the wheels of the train screeched to life.

"Shit!" Ponyboy and Johnny cursed at the same time, eyes widening. They had been so mezmorized by this odd human being that they missed the signals, and they frantically dashed over to the boxcar, jumping up on the edge just as the train came to life.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot," said Eddy, who had mysteriously managed to hop on with them and was now slouched against the back wall of the boxcar, holding out a hand, "so why don't we start over? Hi, I'm Eddy, what're your names?"

Ponyboy sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. _It was bound to happen sometime,_ he thought to himself. "Ponyboy Curtis… This is my friend, Johnny." He mumbled, shaking the dirty calloused palm.

Eddy smiled genuinely, eyes like pools of viridian as he folded his arms. "Ponyboy? Can't say I've heard that one out here. Can't say it's the strangest, though, neither."

Ponyboy raised an eyebrow, and Johnny shared his shock. Normally anyone who heard the youngest Curtis's name gaped or looked just plain baffled. Nobody had ever looked so… placid. "You've heard names stranger than Ponyboy?"

Eddy smirked. "Have you met Ten Second Tim or High And Dry Willy? Boy, these rails'll take your sense of normal to hell and back. You ain't never know what you're gonna see."

Ponyboy acknowledged Eddy's strange acceptance, having no clue about what the eccentric redhead was talking about. Johnny just shrugged, eyeing him with the same suspicious and curious gaze.

"Anywho, enough about names an' all. What brings two fine gents like you out on the move?"

Ponyboy looked away, and Johnny moved an undecipherable sliver closer to his friend. "Shitty old life."

Eddy's spontaneous act suddenly dropped, and he twiddled with his thumbs uncomfortably. "Oh. I see… Where're you headed?"

Johnny dared himself to meet the rider's eyes, tugging at the buttons of his jacket and answered for Ponyboy. "Los Angeles."

To their surprise, Eddy didn't have a witty remark about this. He simply nodded and flexed his arms, stiff from being scrunched up in one position of the car too long. "Got a location, I see… A goal. That's good, that's a start. Most of my friends had one. Me? I just go wherever the wind takes old Eddy. Yessiree, I'm a modern day cowboy. But!" He cut off abruptly, "I always return to the same place."

Johnny and Ponyboy gazed at him half-heartedly. They just couldn't put a finger on this guy- all Pony knew was that whoever he was, he was the complete opposite of Darry.

"Where's that?" Johnny asked, more interested than Pony would've liked.

Eddy's grin widened, and he leaned over and whispered; "Shadbush Road."

"Shadbush Road?" The boys asked in unison.

The redhead nodded, looking out at the scenic landscape of mountains and redrock. "Yep. Welcome to the club, Johnny, Ponyboy. Shadbush Road is the only rest stop in the world for people like us- gypsies, rail-siders, hitchhikers and car creatures. Some say it used to be an old mansion owned by a rich plantation master- slaves and all. Others say it's a graveyard, and you're pushin' your luck by settin' foot on ground where so many were hanged. Deep in the Mogollon Rim, on the sharpest mountainside. 6,987 square feet, ivy covered and boarded up- no one would ever suspect it to be a crossroad, but 'round here we gotta stick together." Eddy said, and handed Ponyboy a folded and worn piece of paper.

Johnny's eyes were wide from the story, and Pony couldn't blame him. Eddy sure had a knack for telling them, almost as good as Dally. A certain enchantment sparked their interest, something foreign and unknown to them. Ponyboy unfolded the paper to see a ripped off piece of map, marked in black ink where the supposed shelter was. And on official government parchment, it was in the middle of nowhere.

"Pony, we need a place to stay-" Johnny began, but Pony tried to stop his friend's curiosity before it could start. He knew Johnny easily got swept away into things like this, but Ponyboy was wary and almost positive that this 'safehouse' was nothin' but a lie from this non-trustworthy kid who seemed to appear out of nowhere. He'd rob us blind if he could, Ponyboy thought to himself.

"It's ok, we'll figure something out." He cut off, handing the paper back to Eddy. "Thanks, but we don't need your favors."

Eddy's eyes glimmered, but he only shrugged and mumbled, "Pride cometh before the fall."

Ponyboy looked at Johnny and then the ground, hunching his shoulders together and trying to get some rest on the filthy floor of the boxcar as he muttered inaudibly, "You're too late. I've already fallen."


	4. Chapter 4

**I own nothing! BTW, the word 'Atchin tan' is Gypsy Romani for 'stopping place'. I apologize for any misuse or spelling of the word, but I thought it fit in this case.**

3 hours into the ride, the boys were bored to death and Johnny had flipped his switchblade at least a thousand times. Eddy had been blabbering non-stop, and while Ponyboy, who was initially suspicious and annoyed of the young man, dismissed most of it as useless banter. However, a few of his words caused the greaser to perk up with attentiveness while Johnny's interest could be sparked with just one match.

"You all are a rare lot, you know," Eddy continued on, "greasers, I mean. Most I see riding these trains are homeless moonshiners, crooked criminals, even the occasional runaway. But never like you two- gangs tend to stick tough, so I guess maybe that's why."

Ponyboy tensed at the comment but acknowledged its truth. Gangs _did_ stick together. It _was_ a rarity when anybody, greaser or soc, got the idea to skip town solo. _But we ain't a gang,_ Pony thought to himself, _we're a family… At least, we were._

He'd been trying to stop thinking about anything to do with home since they left, but the memories just kept on coming. The 'what if's and 'maybe's refused to cease. It seemed like each time he closed his eyes, there was Soda holding him in the dim light of their bedroom, legs intertwined innocently and head against his strong chest. His soft, soothing baritone voice that would joke and laugh and bring joy to everyone he met whispering words of comfort in Ponyboy's ear. His arms were muscular and solid, and wrapped up in them the youngest greaser felt like even the most ugly of horrors in the world could not reach him. Not the pain of losing his parents, nor the adjustment that had come afterwards- just Soda and him.

His heart was physically aching, like a part of him that was slowly burning and shriveling away.

And Darry… _No, don't think of him!_ Darry would always yell. Darry would wound, but was never the _wounded. Stop it!_ Darry's words meant so much to a boy who'd fallen from grace and into despair. _He don't want you no more!_ Darry, who gave up everything to take care of his brothers because a tragedy had torn their lives apart. _He never did!_ Darry, who had had enough of his youngest brother. _You were just another mouth for him to feed!_ Darry, who'd hit him. _He promised he'd be good to you!_ Pain, searing across his cheek but more into his heart. _That was just the beginning of what would come your way._ He had lost so much. Too much. His innocence, his parents, the very ground he stood on… His brothers were his world, the very last bit of it he had to cling on to, his only hope. He couldn't lose that, too. He just couldn't. The pain would be too much, not again. He was already tearing asunder as it was. So he cut himself away before anything else could break his heart, aching as it was now. _End up like Dally, one by one… Stupid boy, he never loved you. You were foolish enough to believe him._

"Ponyboy!"  
Ponyboy was jolted from his thoughts when Johnny snapped him out of it, waving a hand in front of his face.

"Pony, are you ok? You just kinda… Zoned out for a minute there." Johnny said, voice thick with concern. "We're in Albuquerque. Eddy said he'd ride with us to LA, somethin' 'bout makin' sure we get on the right train. I know you don't like him all that much, but we need all the help we can get."

Ponyboy frowned and pushed himself up from the floor, arms and legs aching from being curled up for so long. Eddy? Coming with them? He sighed in dismay but knew Johnny was right. One wrong train could set them off schedule for days, if not weeks. For all he knew, CPS could be looking for the right now. _Or maybe they didn't care enough to even file a report,_ Pony thought. Tears were burgeoning at his eyes, stinging his line of vision, but he angrily wiped them away with the back of his hand and forced himself to stay strong.

"Fine. Just don't drive us crazy before we set foot in the city." Ponyboy grumbled to Eddy, who was following the boys as they snuck off the car and blended in with the crowd of passengers. The Albuquerque station was _definitely_ a million times bigger than Keyes. Decorative palm trees dotted the marble floored platform, and people everywhere were bustling about with their luggage through attendant lines.

"Damn, this is bigger and nicer than the whole Tulsa city hall building, ain't it?" Johnny whispered in awe at the large glass skylights through which sunshine poured endlessly.

Ponyboy smiled tentatively, nudging Johnny on the shoulder. "Sure is, Johnnycake. But how do you know what the inside of the city hall looks like?"

Johnny shrugged as they followed Eddy out the station and into the bright noon light. "I had to go down there to bail out Dally a few times."

The youngest Curtis brother laughed, picturing Johnny handing a wad of cash to an officer while a smug looking Dally strolled out. It was so fitting it hurt.

"Next train to Los Angeles leaves tonight- it's a long one boys, 13 hours and 15 minutes. But at least it's a one way hitch." Eddy interrupted, eyes scanning the schedule board whilst he ignored the stares others were giving to his disheveled look.

The boys groaned, dreading the long ride and the red head only chuckled. "Relax, ladies, I've been on a 5 day straight ride to Cheyenne, Wyoming. Hell of a hitch, beautiful scenery, though." He joked, "C'mon! Albuquerque's got a great market to stock up on supplies if you don't get sucked into the tourist traps."

"You've been here before?" Johnny asked as the three walked into town, a quaint but large urban adobe market of houses and shops, crowds of people hurrying by to the train station and back. Cacti seemed to be outside every store, and the desert theme seemed to beckon one to the tall, rugged mountains in the distance.

"'Course I have." Eddy proclaimed, and Pony stared in awe as he walked on the sun burning ground in bare feet without flinching. _I thought Dally was tough as nails,_ he thought derisively.

"Hey, where you going?" Ponyboy called to Eddy as he and Johnny were stopped in front of a mini mart, "We need food!"

Eddy nodded them to come with him, smirking. "I know a much better place for all that. C'mon, guys, you know what they say. It's a brave new world!"

Johnny's eyes were filled with wonder while Ponyboy simply rolled his. "Fine, fine. But we ain't no pushovers, right, Johnny?" The greaser looked, however, to see his best friend already ahead of him and following Eddy into a brushy forest of tumbleweed. "Johnny!" He exclaimed, running after them, "Wait for me!"  
What they encountered next surpassed any of the greaser's expectations, though. Tucked away into a small clearing of trees was large long shelter made out of a menagerie of rusting scrap metal, canvas, and firewood. It was hidden enough from the society of Albuquerque, though, that if one wasn't looking for it, they wouldn't find it.

Squeezed in unimaginable spaces next to each other, people old and young stood in haphazardly set up stands calling out prices for their goods, which ranged everything from antique pipes to rifles. Ponyboy couldn't stop from staring at the diversity of it all- young women with babies on their hips shepherding their children, old men missing either all their teeth or what they had left were tinted limestone yellow, widows with brightly colored scarves wrapped around them to protect their already leathery skin from sunburn, and even some boys their age. At the end of the shelter was group of men playing makeshift guitars and fiddles patched with twine and deerskin while families danced to the tunes.

"What is this place?" Johnny whispered.

"Atchintan. Best hitchhiker market in all the Rockies. Some clowns over in the Appalachians may have themselves somethin' like it, but their braggin' ain't worth a lick compared to ours." Eddy answered smugly, folding his arms in pride.

Ponyboy closed his mouth, which he realized had been open this whole time, and swallowed. It was like a whole other world that had been existing underneath their noses, something neither greaser nor soc would ever imagine. And neither class existed here. _Come to think of it,_ Ponyboy thought as he walked around, _there really is no categorization at all. Not black or white or soc or greaser… Just… People._

"Alright, boys," Eddy said mischievously as he straightened out his suspenders, "let's do some barterin' and be on our way."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer! I own nothing except Jessamine and their story. :) Enjoy ;)**

In all of his wanderings, Ponyboy had never been anywhere even close to something like Atchintan. He watched in awe as they didn't spend a cent on bags of food, Eddy either explaining their situation to sympathetic vendors or bartering their things to pushy ones.

"Hey, kid, you like that comb?" Eddy asked Pony, gesturing to the one in his pocket.

Ponyboy put a hand over it, feeling the smooth pick protectively. It was all he had left of home. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, this fine gent will give us 5 cans of soup for it." He gestured to the big, burly man guarding the stand next to them.

Ponyboy bit his lip, reluctantly nodding. It was an offer they couldn't afford to pass up, especially with how little money they had. Who knew when they'd eat next? So, the youngest Curtis shakily withdrew his comb and held it in his palm for a moment. All the pride they took in their tuff hair- memories came rushing into him like a tidal wave. Soda using this comb to straighten out his wheat golden hair in the mornings before work, checking himself in the mirror and flashing Pony a loving smile.

"C'mon, kid, he ain't that patient." Eddy warned, holding his hand out to Ponyboy.

Ponyboy sighed, and with a heavier heart than he imagined, handed over the comb. Eddy then gave it to the man, who was looking at it like a pirate does a treasure chest. Ponyboy wondered how hard it was to get a decent comb around here, as beauty obviously wasn't the center of everyone's attention. Things like that must be a rarity, a luxury.

Johnny was grinning as he took the burlap sack full of cans of soup and smiled at Ponyboy, slinging it over his shoulder. "Nice, huh, Pone?"

Ponyboy shrugged. "I guess."

"Oh! Hey, boys, get a load of this!" Eddy beckoned them over from another stand where an old man was selling weaponry. A makeshift stand composed of slabs of wood displayed rusting machetes, leather worn handles and even a whip. He could see immediately what Eddy was drooling over, though. Johnny was eyeing it, too. At the center of the table was a black saturday night special glock. Pony could tell this wasn't a cheap gun, whether the vendor knew it or not. This was a police gun, someone had to have stolen it off an officer. He knew because he remembered Dally's heater, and this was built way sturdier than his. A pistol, dark and steady in the palm, made for precise kills.

"Very fine gun, no?" The man grinned toothless at Ponyboy and Johnny. He had a spanish accent and was very persuasive, telling Eddy over and over again how good a deal it was.

"Pony, we should get it!" Johnny urged, "Just look at it!"

Ponyboy shivered slightly, a dull dread stabbing at his stomach. "Naw, we don't need one. We already got a switch, remember?"

Johnny sighed, watching enviously as Eddy tried bargaining for it, and Ponyboy wondered when his best friend had become so interested in weapons. _Maybe it was when you decided to drag him out to the wild west and hell knows where else,_ he scolded himself. "Trust me, Johnny, nothing good will come from havin' that thing on us."

Johnny huffed but nodded, knowing his friend was right. Still, who knew whether the gun would come in handy or not. Besides, it reminded him of Dally.

"Old curmudgeon." Eddy mumbled under his breath, coming back empty handed. "Wouldn't take anything we had. That's alright, though- you win some, you lose some, eh?"

A wave of relief filled Ponyboy and he nodded, a firm hand on his friend's shoulder guiding him away from the gun.

An hour and a half later, the group was nearing the end of the seemingly endless row of stands in the shelter with a bag full of 4 cans of soup, a canteen of water, twine bound racks of jerky, a lighter, and three packs of marlboros. It still took them both by surprise at how much one could get around here with just trading. Money wasn't in high demand around here because it was in such low supply, Ponyboy thought, and he felt a little sad when he looked around at the skinny children and the wide eyed mothers in tattered clothes. He thought Tulsa was bad, but at least they had food to eat and running water.

A soft tug at his sleeve dragged him from his thoughts and he looked up to see Johnny grinning, pulling him towards the band that was still playing. "C'mon, Pone, we danced all the time at the drive in!" He laughed, and the rare spontaneous side of Johnny was in full fledge.

Nervously, Ponyboy allowed himself to be pulled into the bouncing crowd of women and men, children and even a few stray dogs weaving in and out of the mass. "Yeah, but that's different!" He called over the music as Johnny pulled him into the circle of people clapping their hands.

"How?" He called back in glee as the fiddle played high notes, prompting a 'whoo' from the crowd and a click of their heels.

"We danced to Elvis!" Pony shouted over the noise, but couldn't help allow himself a smile as he was sucked into the wave of clamoring figures, he and Johnny jumping along clumsily to the unfamiliar jig. A little girl who couldn't have been older than five grabbed his hand, her own streaked and dirty but Pony took it nonetheless as they danced. Eddy was hollering at the top of his lungs in a rush of euphoria, and for the first time since Ponyboy left, he felt happy. Not content, but happy. And that was a big deal.

"I gotta say, for a couple of gangsters y'all sure know how to bust a move." Eddy complimented as they took the forest route back to the train station. It was late in the afternoon, and their ride was scheduled to leave any minute.

"We have fun, too, you know," Johnny protested, "dancin' ain't foreign to us."

Eddy gave him a mock serious look, bending down to pick up a few rocks and twigs. "Really, now? Y'all are so statue-like, sometimes I forget you're alive. You gotta live loose, you know? Have fun once in a while."

Ponyboy smirked, shoving his hands in his pockets. _If only he knew about all the drive in theater nights, the rumbles, the laughter that used to fill my house,_ He thought, _I have a family… Or at least, I used to._

Hopping up from the tumbleweed clusters and onto the boxcar, Ponyboy got himself situated on the floor. It became a familiar feeling to him in the simple two days he'd known it.

"You as hungry as I am?" Johnny asked him, cracking open a can of soup.

Pony allowed himself a small smile and nodded. "Yeah, starving. How we gonna cook that though?"

Eddy smirked, creating a circle of stones he'd collected with his feet in the middle of the boxcar and adding twigs in the center. "Lighter," he mumbled, and Johnny tossed him the silver container. Within moments, they had a small but steady fire going in the center of the car. Johnny held the can over the flame, waiting for it to heat up, and Ponyboy busied himself by lighting a cigarette.

"Want one?" He asked Eddy after Johnny took his own.

Eddy shook his head, staring into the fire. "Naw. I don't smoke."

Pony eyed him in surprise, as did his friend. Almost everyone their age smoked, let alone someone as old as Eddy. It was rare if they didn't.

Eddy caught their staring and chuckled, adjusting his suspenders. "You can't afford to get addicted if you don't know when you'll get your next meal, let alone a pack of cancer sticks. Too much work, in my opinion."

Pony nodded in understanding as the train came to life, and soon they were off and on their way. The soup had warmed up enough after 15 minutes of holding it over the licking flames, and soon they all had full bellies.

The chirping of crickets and the cool night air combine with the rhythmic thump of the tracks was enough to lull anyone to sleep, and it didn't take long before Johnny was snoring softly on Pony's jacket, leaning on his shoulder.

"So, kid," Eddy began after a long moment of silence, "I know you don't like me and all, but give it to me straight. Where'd you and your buddy come from that drove you so far out here?"

The question took Pony by surprise, and he was angry for a moment at such an invasive question before exhaustion took over and he sighed, too tired to feel offended. "Tulsa. West side. Johnny's parents weren't nearly as good to him as he deserved. Old man's a drunk and mother's just as bad." He confessed.

Eddy simply stared at the fire, nodding. "What about you?"

Ponyboy tensed. "I lived with my brothers. The middle one, Soda, he was good to me… I, uh, I miss him. A lot. But the oldest don't want me no more. Too much work, I guess."

The redhead bit his lip and listened, wide green eyes staring at the boy intently. "Where're your parents?"

"They died in a car wreck two years ago." He answered stonily.

Eddy was quiet for a moment, and the silence seemed deafening before he broke it. "At least you got to know 'em. All I got on mine is that they were from Ireland. I grew up on the rails, I guess… Some folks took me in occasionally, but my life never really had a direction until Jessamine."

Ponyboy noticed the crack in the usually spontaneous man's voice, but dismissed it as unimportant. Still, a lingering curiosity kept him from ignoring it and he asked softly, "Who's that?"

Eddy's face was unreadable now, and it was like Pony was talking to a whole other person. Serious, masked instead of joking and light. His voice was thick as he answered. "My wife."

Ponyboy's jaw dropped, and he had to quickly close his mouth in his awe-taken state of surprise. Eddy had a wife? He was so young! _That would be like Darry gettin' married,_ Pony thought. He knew Soda had plans to marry Sandy, but he could already tell that Eddy's story was nothing like that. This was different. "You have a wife?" Pony asked, trying to keep the shock out if his voice.

Eddy looked away. " _Had._ We met in a hunting cabin in the Rockies during one of my hikes to another station. 16… We were only 16, kid, and we fell in love. I don't know how we knew, we just did. Got married a year later in some redneck chapel in Fort Collins, drank a bottle of cheap wine to celebrate… Only five bucks, that bottle, but I swear it tasted better than anything I'd ever known." His voice was broken, smile wavering.

Ponyboy was silent, and from somewhere unknown inside of him, he got the courage to ask his question. "What happened to her?"

Eddy didn't speak for a moment, clenching and unclenching his jaw. "We were out in the canyon together one day. Sun was shining, it was beautiful… Colorado gets real nice 'round spring time, you know? We were having a… A picnic, up on the northern plateau. I wanted to give her a silver ring I'd found swimming in the river. She always loved silver more than gold… I swear that storm came out of nowhere. One minute it was sunny, then it was pouring. We went to the highest mound we could find, you know, 'cause that's what you're supposed to do. Next thing I know… A river's rushing below us… She lost her footing, I couldn't pull her out."

The air hung thick as fog for a good five minutes. Ponyboy didn't know what to say, let alone think. He never would have imagined that underneath that clownish go-lucky aura lived such tragedy. And then, to his own surprise, Ponyboy felt guilty. _I did this to myself,_ he thought, _Darry may have hit me but at least I chose to leave… Jessamine didn't get a choice. Neither did Eddy._

"... I'm sorry." Ponyboy swallowed, watching Eddy carefully.

The redhead didn't look up from the fire, and for a moment, Ponyboy wasn't sure if he heard him or not. But then the left side of his mouth quirked upward, freckles wrinkling as he smiled with watery eyes at Ponyboy.

"You're somethin' else, you know that, kid?" He chuckled quietly, "I can't put my finger on you."

Neither of them spoke for the rest of the night, and as the fire dimmed out and sleep overcame them, the only light left was the silver pallor of the moon that fell across the land.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey y'all! Sorry for the late update- it's been crazy busy! Please R &R if you can, and as always, I own nothing!**

Early morning sunlight prodded at Ponyboy's closed eyelids, forcing him awake to the crisp smell of dawn air. He stretched, stiff and aching. The train was still moving, the rhythmic clanking of the wheels on the tracks never ceasing.

 _We made it through the night,_ Ponyboy thought to himself, _got 'about four more hours to go. Glory, we're far from Tulsa._

He peered at Johnny, who was still asleep against the side of the car, curled up in a ball under his jacket. Eddy was also out like a light, but Pony found he couldn't look at the redhead the same way ever again. Not after what he heard last night.

The burnt out fire left behind blackened ashes that littered the stone circle, smoke stains brushing up against the wooden walls of the car. It appeared as though they were currently traveling through a forest, thick trees and foliage surrounding them, dappling the sunlight that dotted the leafy floor. The plants blurred past them as they moved, and in the distance Ponyboy saw two deer trot cautiously across the land in their endless quest for food.

At the realization of his own hunger, he reached into the bag and pulled out a stick of jerky, tearing into the salty meat and chewing as quietly as he could. He reached into his pocket to find his comb, but with grim dismay remembered it wasn't there.

He sighed, flopping back to rest against the wall. He absentmindedly reached up to feel his hair. It had lost it's grease long ago, and now, with no comb to take care of it, no doubt it would hang poker straight across his eyes and neck as usual. He had his father's hair- auburn flat, with the tendency to grow like wild should he leave it unkempt.

"Morning, kid…" Eddy's tired voice interrupted his thoughts, "geez, you're an early riser."

Pony didn't even pay his comment any attention- he simply stared off into the distance and sighed. "Yeah. I prefer sunsets, though."

Eddy gave him a quizzical look but shrugged nonetheless, stretching as he pulled out a small pocket watch from within his trousers. "It's about a quarter to 6. We should be pullin' into the station shortly. Your buddy there wake up yet?"

Johnny stirred beside Ponyboy, mumbling something in his sleep. Ponyboy yawned, absentmindedly carding a hand through his younger friend's hair. He was too tired to think, but he knew from experience that Johnny was a heavy sleeper. Afterall, they'd both passed out in the lot without a second glance.

"So, Ponyboy," Eddy began, stretching as he opened a pack of jerky himself, "ever been out west?"

Ponyboy shook his head, looking at his feet. The farthest he'd ever gone from Tulsa in his life was the month before his parent's death. The five of them had driven out to the country on the eastern border of Oklahoma for a picnic that day to celebrate Darry's coming high school graduation. Memories rushed back to the greaser, so vivid and intense that he could almost feel the summer breeze, taste the sandwiches, run his hands through the tall green grass. He remembered the way sunlight fell through his mother's hair, long and red like the side of an ancient canyon rock. That seemed like eons ago now…

Eddy chuckled, interrupting Ponyboy's train of thought. "You remind me of one of 'em mountain deer with those big bug eyes. You stare when you're tired." He noted.

Ponyboy scowled half-heartedly, shrugging as he took another bite of his jerky. "And you look like a carrot exploded on your head."

Eddy gave him a mock pout and folded his arms, his left hand reaching up to brush the curls protectively. "Hey, now, this is bonafide Irish gold right here, buddy. Don't you go bad-mouthin' the clan… Now, what were we talkin' about? Oh, right- well, you're in for a world of wonder, kiddo. There's nothin' quite like California."

The auburn haired greaser recalled Dally's story, and nodded. "Yeah. My friend Dally's been there… He told me a little."

Eddy grinned and hooked a thumb under his suspender. "Yessir. There's movie stars, casinos, adventure… and them girls are real lookers, too!"

A grin found itself onto Pony's face, and he folded his arms. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Eddy smirked. Ponyboy wondered if he'd ever given romance another go since Jessamine… He dared not ask such a thing, but part of him wondered just how hard it would be to go back after experiencing true love. _What would Darry think about you, ya dog,_ he thought mischievously to himself, picturing Darry's reaction to seeing him in a club with a beautiful girl on his lap. A spark of independence flared in his chest as he realized that Darry couldn't stop him anymore- no one could.

"Hey… You ever get yourself a girl, Pony? How old are you, anyways?" Eddy spoke with a mouthful of jerky.

"14… My brother would never let me see anybody. Said I was wastin' my time, had to study and focus on school." He replied bitterly.

Eddy, noting the tone of resentment in his voice, folded his arms and leaned back against the dusty wall as the train creaked along. Things were quiet for a long tense minute, and for the first time in forever, Eddy saw himself in someone else. In this young runaway gangster, he saw surprisingly more than he'd wanted to, and in these past few days alone he found the boy had begun to grow on him. He saw the hurt and pain and fear behind his bluster, and after he'd revealed his biggest scar last night, he found he just couldn't stand to see him like that.

"You know what I'd do if I were you?" He asked suddenly, voice low and serious, leaning in a bit closer to Ponyboy.

The greaser's eyes were trailing his carefully, watching him with caution and curiosity.

Eddy looked around, as if he knew a secret no one else did, and then whispered to Ponyboy, "I'd do it. I'd do it all. Everything anyone ever said I couldn't or shouldn't or wouldn't, prove 'em all wrong. I'd leave a boy and return a man. And then, when I walk through that door, I'd look him straight on with my head held high and say, 'you go straight to hell.'"

Pony didn't say anything for a long moment, the two just staring at each other.

Eddy smiled when he saw the side of the youngest greaser's lips curl upward.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Hello all! I am so sorry for the unexpected hiatus- please don't think I've given up on this story! R &R is greatly appreciated and loved :) :) Next chapter coming soon, I promise!**_

"This is the city of angels? Don't look that angelic to me…" Johnny muttered, gazing around at the littered streets and dried up palm trees.

The three had jumped off when the train pulled into port that morning, eager to stretch their cramping muscles and get a breath of fresh air. Pony didn't understand it, though- when he envisioned Los Angeles, it was in the glorious image of what Dally made it out to be. Something mystical and adventurous and not so… boring. It almost looked just like Tulsa, save the gang members and the DX.

Ponyboy bit his lip to stop Soda from entering his mind again. He couldn't afford to think about him anymore. He just couldn't, lest he burst into tears.

Eddy laughed, dragging them both from their thoughts. "Don't get your panties in a bunch yet, ladies. This is just the outskirts of it all- what you boys are after is the real deal. Down town."

Ponyboy rolled his eyes at the dramatic banter, folding his arms. "Ok, what makes you say downtown is so much better than this?" He challenged.

The redhead smirked, eyeing them both like he knew a secret neither of them did. _Based on everything he's showed us so far, he probably does,_ Ponyboy thought wearily.

"What's he talkin' about, Pone?" Johnny asked as the two darted after him, taking a right at an old brick building on the corner of a dark, dusty alley.

"I dunno… Guess we'll find out when we get there." He answered vaguely, following aimlessly as he thought he seemed to do so often these days. But it didn't take much, because anyone with eyes could spot the towering silver buildings that stretched up to the sky, peeking just above the horizon. They were out of breath when Eddy finally stopped running, the three hanging off the edge of an old fire escape watching the city in the distance. And boy, was it something!

Nothing Ponyboy had ever seen could compare to downtown Los Angeles. _And to think, just a minute ago all I could see was tumbleweed,_ he mused silently. It was almost ethereal, the way sunlight glinted off the bellies of the shiny metal monsters, larger than life itself. You could easily fit ten Tulsas in a fraction of the place. There were roads and cars and freeways, busses and trains and _so many people._ An elementary school nearby rang the bells, calling the children inside for recess- stray dogs barked for food as some little kids played with them, much to the adult's chagrin. There were stores selling everything you could imagine, some things Ponyboy hadn't even heard of before. Fancy boutiques and pretty women, police officers and even a few limos cascaded down the streets. It was mind blowing and it was amazing, surreal and awe striking, something two small town boys like Pony and Johnny could gawk at forever.

Ponyboy remembered going to the Tulsa 4th of July parade when he was younger, his parents smiling as they took a picture with sparklers in their hands. He had sat on his father's shoulders to see the floats as they came by, Sodapop and Darry pointing out which ones they liked the most. At the time, the seemingly endless assortment of colors and the large gathering of people and bustling of the town was big and lively to Ponyboy. It had never hit him that as he got older, especially after his parents died, his view of the world never really went beyond wide open spaces and washed-out sleepy towns. He never thought about what lay outside the gang and his brothers until now.

"Glory, Pony… Ain't it something?" Johnny breathed, nudging his buddy, awestruck.

Ponyboy nodded absently, feeling as though he could stare at it forever. "Yeah, Johnnycakes," he agreed, "it's somethin', alright."

"Bigger than most country boys imagine, eh?" Eddy smirked, adjusting his suspenders, "Well, that's just the view. I'm gonna show you the _real_ ropes."

As the three walked down the street, bobbing up and down in the sea of humanity, Ponyboy and Johnny couldn't help but notice the crowd here wasn't anything like Tulsa. There was no clear cut divide between society 'cause there was just too much of it.

"This here is Al's, best bar you're gonna find." Eddy pointed at an old building to their left, paint peeling and rusted. He had been talking on and on about everything they'd passed, from gas stations to disco clubs, casinos and other places where famous people Pony had never heard of before put their hand prints. "Last time I was here, rumor had it that old Al himself kept a stash of the finest whiskey in the country under his desk, saving it for the perfect customer. You should try your luck sometime, kid." Eddy mused to Ponyboy.

Ponyboy shrugged, but Johnny looked more interested. "I wonder what he's got, Pone," Johnny said to his friend, "only liquor I ever got was the shit they sell at the truck stop on 5th. Dally said he got wasted on $500 chardonnay once when he got this French girl up in bed for a night, but I don't buy it for one second."

Ponyboy opened his mouth to agree, to say that Dally's usually too drunk to tell what he's drinking anyway, but before he could he found himself and Johnny being pulled roughly to the ground behind a magazine cart by Eddy.

"What the hell, man?" Pony growled at the redhead, blood starting to patch up where he skinned his elbow.

"Shut up." Eddy hissed, and peered over the cart cautiously, as if something would come out and bite them.

Johnny, just as confused as his friend, turned to look out as well. When he caught an eyeful, his face fell and he nudged Pony to see. Both greaser's minds started racing at the sight.

Missing posters. With their names on it.

A stout police officer was stapling them to the telephone pole, talking to a few locals before getting back in his cruiser and driving away.

 _Leave it to him to file a report nationwide,_ Ponyboy thought about Darry running to the cops and rambling down their information. This wasn't good- they'd already gotten themselves into more than they bargained for, but now, with the fuzz on their backs, things would be a lot more risky. _Shoulda thought about whether you'd miss me or not before you hit me,_ Ponyboy thought bitterly. Why had Darry even filed them missing? Johnny he'd understand- Dally probably would've done it if he hadn't, knowing how protective the tough hood was of the youngest member even if he'd never admit it. But Darry, Darry had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with his little brother. So why would he care what became of him?

"Pony, what're we gonna do?" Johnny's tentative voice dragged him back to reality, waiting for a direction from his friend.

Ponyboy pursed his lips and looked at the ground, fidgeting around in his pocket for a cigarette. "We need to find somewhere to stay- at least until we figure this out. Lie low, keep under the radar until this all blows over."

Johnny nodded, looking to Eddy. "I reckon you got someplace in mind already."

Eddy smirked, crossing his arms. "I think you'll fit right in."


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey everyone! I am so sorry for the unexpectedly long hiatus. To make it up to you, I will be updating much more regularly. Thanks for all your support! (every time I get a review, Ponyboy gets more plot twists :)**

Ponyboy almost gagged as soon as he stepped inside the boarded up building. The pungent odor of sweat, cigarette smoke, beer and mildew was overwhelming. Johnny's eyes watered, and he coughed into his elbow.

The first floor was filled with people- already, Pony counted at least a dozen sitting around a coffee table playing poker. The floor was dusty, and the entire area was barely lit with the exception of thin streams of light coming in through the cracks of the boarded up windows. Torn couches and mattresses with the springs sticking out littered the ground, people sprawled out either high or drunk across them. The staircase leading to what Ponyboy assumed was the second floor looked like it was about to give out should anyone walk on it. Peeling white paint flaked off in piles in the corners, and an old toothless man strummed idly on a guitar in the back of the room. Like Atchin Tan, the crowd was more diverse than anything Tulsa ever had. Young, old, black white, even a mother with two children sat on a mattress towards the corridor. There were girls in tattered dresses speaking spanish rapidly to one another, men guffawing not unlike Two Bit, and a few guys who sat alone, downing their beers, dressed like failed stock brokers.

"Where are we?" Johnny ventured absentmindedly, oggling at the strange sight.

"It used to be a casino up until 'bout 6 years ago. The state closed it down, and since then it's been a hangout to a crowd of around 500." Eddy explained, leading them towards the old staircase.

"500?" Ponyboy exclaimed, glancing reluctantly at the rickety steps.

Eddy chuckled. "Not all at once, of course. But I estimate the amount I've seen in my days. C'mon, I'll show you a room. Looks like the first floor is already full."

Johnny was the first to try out the old boarding. It creaked and moaned dangerously, but did not give as they continued upwards. The site brought back memories to Ponyboy of his father. When he was 5 years old, on of the steps to the basement broke and Mr. Curtis was scratching his head for weeks. No matter how much their mother clamored for him to do something or at least call a repairman, he insisted on figuring it out himself. He was stubborn as the day was long, working on that thing even harder after Darry tripped on it with all his football gear. To this day, the fifth step down to their basement remains broken. A smile quirked involuntarily at the young boy's lips. It was bittersweet.

"Ah, here we are. Much better." Eddy called out, sauntering around the vacant slot machines that were still bolted to the floor.

Johnny mentioned something about two open beds, and Eddy kept talking about how last year he'd shot a whole nest of rats that had taken up lodge in a pool table, but all Ponyboy could stare at was the girl who stood in the corner, looking out a gap in the boarded up window. Sunlight masked her face, an olive hue unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Her dark brown hair was curly and tangled, cut short to hang just above her shoulders but it still fell in wisps about her face. She looked to be about his age, legs long and body skinny from lack of available food. She wore a stained sweatshirt and patched jeans, worn down converse shoes just like his own. She looked like she was contemplating something, so deep in thought. Her image was so incomparably different to that of the girls in Ponyboy's school. Girls like Cherry, with iron pressed dresses and immaculate fashion, porcelain white skin and hair done up without a single fly away.

He was mesmerized. So mesmerized, in fact, that he didn't hear Johnny the first time he called out to him.

"What?" He mumbled, not tearing his gaze away from her.

Johnny smirked, hands shoved in his pockets. "I _said,_ why don't you go talk to her?"

Ponyboy feigned ignorance, shaking his head to clear his thoughts as he folded his arms. "Who? What are you talking about?"

His friend chuckled and nodded in the girl's direction. "Her. That chick you've been staring at for five minutes. You should go talk to her."

Ponyboy blushed, rolling his eyes and frowning defensively. "I wasn't staring."

"Man, you got goo-goo eyes that can be spotted from a mile away." Johnny laughed, "If you like her, go introduce yourself."

Ponyboy glared at him, wishing for a moment that his friend didn't know him so well. He did, however, wish he had Soda's knack with the ladies. He'd never been good with girls. "Naw, man, she won't want nothin' to do with me," he mumbled, "we're greasers, remember?"

Johnny looked at him knowingly, hand reaching for a cigarette in his pocket. "And does it look like anyone around here cares?"

That stopped Pony's immediate protest, which fell silent in his throat. Truth be told, every soul he'd seen so far looked like they had much bigger problems to deal with. They hadn't gotten a single jeer about their status the entire trip, much less a second glance. Johnny was right- either they were too nice to say anything, or didn't have time to care. It was an odd feeling to not have to worry about whether you were a greaser or a soc, like a weight he'd grown used to carrying all his life had been lifted and he suddenly didn't know what to do without it.

His thoughts fell back to the girl, and he took a deep breath, looking back at Johnny who gave him an encouraging nod. _This is insane,_ he scolded himself as he walked up to her, _you're just gonna make a bigger fool of yourself. Maybe you can just turn back now and pretend none of this ever-_

"Can I help you?" Her voice was wasn't proper and prim like the girls he was familiar with, but it had a different kind of tone to it, something that for some reason reminded him of raw honey.

He froze, face red as he fumbled for something, anything to say. "Uh… Hi." _Nice going, genius._

A confused smile twisted at her lips and she eyed him perplexedly, brown orbs like fresh soil after a spring rain. "Hi…"

Oh, man, he was drowning here. _This is all Johnny's fault,_ he thought to himself frantically, _the first chance I get and I-_ "My name's Markella. You are…?"

He coughed, shaking himself out of his stupor. _Name, you idiot, say your name!_ "Ponyboy. I'm… Ponyboy."

Markella raised an eyebrow but nodded, reaching out her hand for him to shake.

He prayed to whatever god existed that she couldn't feel the sweat that was on his palms or the shakiness of his normally steady hands. Her skin was not flawless or silky smooth like most would think a girl's ought to be. It was rough from work and dry from the wind and sun, yet delicate and more feminine than any girl he'd ever met.

"Welcome to L.A., I guess… What brings you out to row with the other slaves?" She mused, leaning against the wall as she continued peering out the window.

The question was so personal, so big, but so far everybody seemed to share one common factor: shitty lives. If he told her the truth as to why he was here, she probably wouldn't bat an eye. "I ran away from home. My brother couldn't care less 'bout what happens to me." He muttered, looking down at his feet.

"What about your parents?" Markella asked, "Didn't they hunt ya down?"

"My parents are dead." Ponyboy stated flatly.

Markella paused, taking in the sight of the somber boy before her. "Oh. Mine, too."

Ponyboy's head whipped up so fast that he swore his neck almost snapped. "Car accident?" He ventured, voice shaky.

Her eyes got a faraway look in them, and he wondered if he went too far. He knew from experience that it was thin ice to walk on. But instead, she calmly shook her head. "My dad sold meth. One night a customer got angry, shot 'em both."

A chill ran up Ponyboy's spine, and almost dizzyingly fast, things were put into perspective. His parents died in a car accident. It was a freak happening, nobody was at fault. Markella's were murdered in cold blood. He couldn't imagine what that would feel like, having to know his parents were killed by another hand. "... I'm sorry." He said quietly.

"Don't be." She bit quickly, but the sharpness in her voice was not directed at him. "They never wanted me. I hardly saw 'em, anyway."

An awkward silence fell over the two, neither of them knowing what to say. Feeling as though his face might catch on fire if it got any redder, Ponyboy desperately tried to change the subject, but before he could utter a word, she beat him to it.

"So, you ever been in foster care?" She asked, dark eyes glimmering in the fading sun.

Ponyboy snorted at the thought. Being tossed around from stranger to stranger? No way. That was the one thing that he and his brothers could always agree on- come hell or high water, there was no way in hell they'd ever surrender to the state's half-assed 'family placement' ideas. _Guess it don't make no difference now,_ Ponyboy thought soberly, _I got separated from 'em anyway… Oh, Soda, please don't think I hate you. Please don't put this on yourself…_ "No." Ponyboy finally confirmed, swallowing hard.

Markella chuckled, voice surprisingly strong. "Oh, man, you've been missing out."

Ponyboy's eyes widened, and he gaped at her. "You mean… You actually liked it?" He braced himself for a sappy story about her finding a family she'd actually gotten along with, but her reply couldn't be further in difference.

"Are you kidding? It's a free ticket to looting! Got shipped around to 20 different houses in five months, and swindled each and every one of them. Stole right from under their fat ass noses." She grinned.

Ponyboy laughed out loud, heartily and fully, before he could stop himself. He imagined her slithering through the mansions of one of those soc's, grabbing whatever she could find as she left them in hysterics. It was a picture for the century. "Really?"

Markella was smiling proudly, and withdrew a gold pocket watch from her jacket. "See this?"

Ponyboy's eyes bulged as he nodded, staring at the shiny gold rolex. _That thing is worth two years of Soda's salary,_ he thought absently.

"I got this dandy little trinket from a sucker in Phoenix. He was the weirdest tool I'd ever come across, I swear. He did all kinds of strange things." Markella mused.

"Like what?" Ponyboy inquired, genuinely interested. Before he knew it, they were both sitting down, laughing, exchanging stories until late into the night. Johnny sat playing jacks with Eddy, watching his friend happily. The more Ponyboy talked with Markella, the more he seemed to forget about his troubles as he let her sweep him up in her tales of hilarity and sarcasm. Everything about this girl was exotic; her attitude, her appearance, her views on life, everything. She was nothing like Cherry Valance. He liked Cherry, he really did, but he knew they could never be friends. Not with her being a soc and he a greaser- that was totally out of the question. He told Markella all about Tulsa- about the West side rich kids and the East side greasers. And, to his ever growing surprise, she didn't judge him. She didn't turn her nose at his situation, didn't murmur anything remotely insulting. She just punched him good naturedly in the shoulder and told him that she herself had run into a few socs, and that they had bigger sticks up their asses than she thought humanly possible. This had sent him into another spiral of laughter, and before he knew it, they were both yawning and rubbing their eyes. It had to be at least 1 am.

"I hate to break up the fun, but I need my weekly four hours of sleep." Markella said, earning a chuckle from Ponyboy.

The greaser looked over at Johnny, ever loyal Johnny, who was still awake but barely, refusing to go to sleep before he knew Pony was safe with him and Eddy. Ponyboy turned to Markella, smiling through the darkness. "Yeah… Me too. So… Will you still be here tomorrow?" He asked.

Markella paused, looking away, curls falling in strands about her face. "I don't know… I was planning on heading north, but I don't think I can now."

Ponyboy frowned. "Why not?"

In the dark of the house, he could see her blush. "'Cause I met this really cool kid who I wanna see again tomorrow."

Ponyboy felt his stomach swoop and his cheeks get hot. His palms were sweaty and he gulped. _Did she really just say that she liked me? Is that seriously happening?_ His mind raced frantically, unable to make sense of this. "I… Uh… Well, um… Yeah, I-I-"

Markella laughed softly, turning over on her side as she curled up to go to sleep. "Goodnight, Ponyboy."

Ponyboy rubbed his messy hair in awe, dragging himself over to sleep next to Johnny, who was watching him with wisdom beyond his years. "Yeah… Goodnight." Ponyboy whispered in reply, and in the world he had been living in made only of sorrow and fear, something else began to grow, shining with the possibility of hope in the form of a girl named Markella.


End file.
